


Tying the Knot

by Mango_Lioncat



Series: MerHank/HumanConnor [2]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Begging, Breeding, Dirty Talk, Egg Laying, Eggs, Family Feels, Knotting, M/M, Married Sex, Mermaid Sex, Mermaid royalty, Mermaids, Oral Sex, Outdoor Sex, Pet Names, Praise Kink, Pregnancy, Pregnancy Kink, Smut, absolute filfth, merbabies, mermaid king hank, mermaid prince connor, they're in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-28
Updated: 2019-09-28
Packaged: 2020-10-30 01:42:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20806433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mango_Lioncat/pseuds/Mango_Lioncat
Summary: A sequel-gift of my fic Bound to You originally written for my twitter followers as a thank-you for our 200 follower milestone.MAJOR spoilers for that fic if you read this first, but go for it if you want to read it anyway. Can be read alone you'll just be a tinge confused on some plot points.--Connor makes his first journey with Hank and his -their- merpeople to the breeding grounds where they'll stay for the duration of the winter. It doesn't take long for the mermaid king and his prince to sneak away from the others and have some time for themselves. Horniness ensues





	1. Chapter 1

All in all, Hank’s subjects consisted of about 50 or so merpeople, not including children, which made up about 20 of them. So 70 merfolk, give or take a few.

“We’re a pretty large group,” Hank told Connor one day, back when the prince had legs instead of a tail. He recalls the warmth of the sand on his calves, the cool of the surf on his toes the the sun turning his face red. Hank had sat lazily in the shallow bit of the lagoon, tail lifting and rising without giving it much thought. “But that’s pretty typical here. In the colder waters, other groups usually have no more than 20. I know there’s one led by a merman named Jerry who has numbers about the same as ours.”

Connor remembers being impressed, even then, but it’s only tenfold now when he realizes the severity of Hank’s responsibility over these merpeople.

Because now they have to make the hundreds if not /thousands/ of miles journey to the breeding grounds, and he has to keep all of them safe. Both there and back with the newest members in tow.

“I have my guard to help,” he told Connor, the prince himself already anxious about his own responsibilities to his newly-acquired subjects. Hank had held his hands in his own and brought them to his chest in an effort to ground Connor back to the present. “Markus is a very skilled and talented leader. He’ll be able to carry some of the brunt of my duties, and the rest of the guard respect him. He’ll probably take over for me one of these days when I finally decide to settle down. No need to fret, my love.”

Connor hummed in agreement at the time, still fraught with worry. “Besides,” Hank crooned, and brushed a delicate finger along Connor’s cheekbone, causing the younger merman to flush. “My people have made this journey countless times already, and the parents are always dutiful over their children. We’ll be safe. And I have you to look over, now.”

An aching filled Connor, prompting him to hold Hank’s hand to his cheek. “Hank, I don’t want to be the reason your attention is drawn from your people.”

“Our people, my love,” he answered, smile tender. “And you’re part of that, now. A newly-turned merman who hasn’t made the journey to the breeding waters before? Even if we weren’t already Bonded I would be worrying over you and your well-being.”

Connor had ducked his head, flushing in that way he knew Hank enjoyed. Hank went on, “It’s a long journey, but you’re ready for it, now. And I’ll be with you the entire time – leading our people.”

/Our/ people. It’s such a strange concept, to think of Connor as having a people to take care of and to help lead at Hank’s side. Even though he’s married to Hank, Bonded, he still feels like he’s a prince only in title. He should be someone that the other merpeople feel they can approach for wisdom and guidance, but more often than not he finds that the opposite is true. What help do they need from someone who hasn’t even had their current body for the better part of a year?

But no one holds it against Connor by any means, and he enjoys his new life. He misses his family from time to time, misses certain joys he had as a human, but.. he’s gained so much more as Hank’s husband.

That was weeks ago. The journey was long and strenuous, but now they’re here.

They traveled even further south than the waters they usually stay in to avoid the set-in of winter. The waters are a clear crystal blue, the sandy beaches shallow and warm. Ideal for birthing and raising new young for a season, or so Connor’s been told.

“Have you ever..” Connor starts later that night on an outcropping of rocks near the shore. Other merpeople lounge and sleep around him, exhausted from the journey. He and Hank lie alongside each other, curling into their Bonded for warmth and idly tracing patterns over the other’s skin.

“Ever what, my angel?” Hank asks, voice low.

Connor turns bright red, looks away. “Had a .. child.”

The newly-turned merman knows the answer before Hank even has a chance to reply, if the stiffening of his husband’s body is anything to go by. The finger teasing along Connor’s chest goes still, then trails down, loses contact with Connor’s skin.

Connor looks up from beneath doe-brown eyes, and waits.

Hank heaves a weary sigh, eyes distant and lost in memory. “I did,” he admits. “Years ago. My son.”

Connor can hear the grief rising thick in Hank’s throat, and his outstretched hand touches Hank’s sternum. His blue and green ring that mirrors the same colors as Hank’s tail glimmers in the moonlight. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, Hank,” he murmurs. “I was just- I didn’t want to.”

“No, no, it’s okay.” Hank places a hand placatingly to Connor’s over his chest. “It happened a long time ago. It was.. really hard. But. I’m better now. Having you with me helps.” With that, Hank brings Connor’s hand to his lips to kiss the knuckles.

And he tells him about Cole. Tells him about his beautiful son, how vibrant he was, how joyful of a child. It’s obvious how much Hank loves his son, even now, after tragedy had long since struck and left its mark.

Hank tells Connor about the storm, how it tossed little Cole to and fray in the hostile waters, that no amount of magic and power from Hank could ease it.

There are tears going down Hank’s face when he describes what he found after the storm, and Connor cries with him.

They curl up together that night, Connor holding onto Hank from behind, his slim arms wrapped close around Hank’s middle, holding lightly to his gut. His beloved rests with one arm crooked under his head, and Connor finds comfort in feeling the steady rise and fall of Hank’s breathing under his hands.

He twines his fingers in the gray hair at Hank’s navel, the strands thin and wiry, the squish of his husband’s belly soft beneath his exploring fingers.

“Why did you want to know?” Hank asks in the dark, and moves Connor’s hands up to his chest.

Connor clings himself tighter to Hank, realigns his exploratory hands to pan over the king’s pectorals, his hair even thicker here. He finds comfort as he nuzzles into the back of his husband’s neck. “About..?”

“If I had any kids,” Hank replies, voice measured and steady. His large hands envelop Connor’s easily, their fingers curling and wrapping together. Hank tries to look over his shoulder at Connor, but that’s pretty difficult when Connor has his whole body pressed to Hank’s back.

Hank wrangles himself over onto his other side so he can face his husband, and Connor lets him, eyes cast downward. “God,” Hank rumbles, a bit of laughter in his voice. “You’re wrapped up around me pretty tight, aren’t you, seahorse?”

It’s enough to pull a flicker of a smile up Connor’s mouth, the use of a new pet name (Hank knows he loves them), but not enough to keep it up for very long. His husband brushes a soft finger down his cheek, and lingers at his lips. “C’mon, love. What is it-?”

Connor’s cheeks burn. “It’s just- I wanted to-” He takes in a steadying breath to level out his voice, and twists his fingers together. “You asked last year if I would be interested in- having a child with you.” He stops, hesitant, and Hank’s ensuing silence lets him continue. “I just wasn’t sure, now, if you still wanted to do that. And hearing about Cole-”

“Of course I still do, Connor,” Hank’s pleasant rumble is enough to stall Connor’s words on the verge of falling into a full-blown ramble. A light touch of Hank’s finger at his chin prompts him to look up, and the merman’s eyes fall hazy gazing into the eyes of his king. Connor’s slighter and pink tail goes around Hank’s, twining them together. Scales to scales. “You’re so kind to worry about me, love.” He brushes his finger at Connor’s forehead where that one strand refuses to move aside. “I’ve thought about it a lot, since being Bound to you.. and I know what I want. I know what I’m ready for. I-” he chokes on his words, and this time it’s /Hank/ to duck his head, bashful. “I’d like to start a family with you.”

There are tears going down Connor’s face, but he’s smiling. Torn between joy and heartache for what Hank said, and for the grief his husband has gone through.

But he can’t resist the temptation as he leans forward so he can close the distance between himself and his husband. He surges forward, pressing his lips softly to Hank’s and just positively /melts/ from the touch.

Hank smiles into the kiss, opening his mouth to allow Connor’s tongue to slip in and tickle at that gap between Hank’s front teeth. The king moans, absolute putty in Connor’s hands as the prince leans forward over Hank and settles a hand at his husband’s hip. His breath comes out hot against Hank’s lips, the whiskers tickling his mouth and cheeks.

The king fixes his hands down at Connor’s waist, drawing them up and down in smooth and rhythmic movements. He lingers in particular at the junction where Connor’s human flesh gives way to fish scales, tickling the skin with his finger pads.

“Think we should continue this elsewhere?” Hank asks in a deep rumble, breaking from Connor for a moment to ask the question at Connor’s throat.

“Please,” Connor exhales, feeling a foreign yet familiar tug at something deep in him.

Hank casts a cursory look at the other mermaids gathered around. A couple of adults have already slipped away – no one will notice nor care if they’re gone, too. But still, Connor clings to his king, feeling the remnants of old human shame at the acknowledgment of what they’re going to do.

Hank slips into the water backwards, and quick and as slick as a seal, Connor follows after him into the churning depths.

It takes less than a moment for his eyes to adjust, the fins at his side and along his back comfortably opening as he feels and tests the weight of the current.

Hank is waiting for him, reaches out to for Connor’s hand. “C’mon,” his king urges with a steady and bubbled rumble of his voice. “I have a place just for us..”

Connor takes his hand, trusting, and eager. “Okay, Hank.”

The merman grins, and he pulls his prince into the deeper waters.

–

It’s easy, Connor thinks, how he’s able to follow Hank as they weave effortlessly through the openings and crags of rocks. His tail is agile, graceful in the churning ocean waters, and he laughs joyfully as he follows Hank’s lead.

It took time for him to get used to his body. Weeks and months of learning how to properly swim in the water, how to properly alter the organ inside that allowed him to swim up and down, adjust to the pressure of the water. It was difficult, didn’t come as naturally to him, but Hank was ever the most patient teacher, and Connor certainly didn’t mind the extra attention from his husband.

It was so awkward, at first, adjusting to underwater life, having to push away the old instinct to hold his breath every time he dived into the depths. Now he swallowed the water down, filtered it for the precious oxygen while his gills flared and opened passively along his neck.

“Where are we going, Hank?” he called, darting through the cracks in the rocks. His body was lither than his husband’s, so it was easier for him to slip and turn through every little bend in the way.

“You’ll see,” Hank called from ahead, the currents throwing his long silver hair to and fro in the water. He tossed a grin over his shoulder, and Connor’s heart clenched his his chest. He just loved him so damn much. “It’s worth the journey, trust me.”

“I trust you,” Connor replies instantly, smiling as he follows after. “Just curious.”

“As always, my little starfish,” Hank returns, his larger body arcing gracefully over a salt-smoothed rock, and then down into what appeared to be a dark tunnel, safe from the push and pull of the tide.

The opening is pretty small, but just large enough for a merman as big as Hank to go through. Connor’s reactive instinct is that this would be a safe place to hide from predators -large sharks, namely- but it also tells him to be careful, for they might like to lurk here, too.

“Hank,” he urges, touching his beloved’s arm tentatively, giving him pause. “Is it safe?”

“Of course, Bonded,” Hank reassures. “Anything that can fit in here is too small to hurt us. We’re safe.”

Connor relaxes just the slightest, the tension in his limbs softening when Hank presses a whiskery kiss to his husband’s cheek. “I’ll go first,” the king tells him.

Connor nods, but follows close behind, slipping a big easier into the craggy tunnel.

Darkness envelops them swiftly, and it takes a moment for Connor’s merman eyes to adjust. He can’t make out everything perfectly, but he can see the faint outline of the walls, and can feel the flip of Hank’s tail ahead of him as he goes forward.

The tunnel isn’t very long, only about a minute’s worth of swimming, but it opens up into a lit-up space of water, revealing a hidden cave.

Connor’s breath releases as the space opens up, his eyes adjusting to the light, and he follows after Hank as they break to the surface.

“Whoa!” Connor breathes, looking around. The entire area is trapped in by slick stone walls, dark and black, and there’s even a sandbar at one side of the cave, pearly white. Up high above, there’s an opening, maybe 50 feet up and 10 feet wide, enough for the moon and starlight to shine through.

But the cave isn’t totally dark, because a kind of bacteria grows on the walls, and it glows bright blue and green in the dark. It grows in clumps on certain spots on the walls and down along the water and sand, turning everything as bright and as comforting as the stars in the sky.

“It’s totally closed off,” Hank tells him, in face of Connor’s awe. “I found it years ago, kept it to myself. I’ve never taken anyone here.”

The significance not lost on him, Connor looks to his husband, smiling as he leans back, places his hands over his mouth. “Hank,” he breathes, “It’s beautiful.”

A pleased chuckle, and his husband approaches him, holding Connor from the back so his hands can enclose at Connor’s middle. “Thought you might like it,” Hank says, voice low as it reverbrates against Connor’s spine. His fingers tickle the soft skin of Connor’s belly. “I know you like pretty things like this.”

Connor huffs out a breath. “It’s more than that, Hank.” He rests his hands over Hank’s. “It’s a place special to you, and you wanted to share it.”

“Special place worth showing to a special merman,” Hank returns easily, and nuzzles at the wet skin of Connor’s neck, sucking at the seawater that drips down along his throat.

The smaller merman gasps softly at the sensation, reaches back one hand to hold Hank’s neck there as he tongues at the slit where his gills are. He fights to keep them down, keeping his oxygen-intake limited to his lungs. “Hank-!” he gasps, but smiles, and leans into the affectionate touch. His husband pulls him closer to his firm abdomen, the bulge of his stomach pressing to the small of Connor’s back, squishing his dorsal fin to the side. “Husband,” he says, voice suddenly breathless. “I think you just brought me here so we would have some privacy away from the others.”

“Didn’t we?” Hank asks, playful as he switches from sucking to placing loving kisses down along Connor’s shoulder. “Why else would we separate from the group and come here?”

Connor laughs. “Hank,” he chides, tilting his head back so Hank can better access the smooth column of his throat as he moves back up his neck. But Connor doesn’t protest as his husband runs his hand smoothly up and down the expanse of his ribs before settling at his hip. Then Hank’s smooth fingers slip down, across his waist, holding teasingly above the spot suddenly aching deep in Connor.

The younger merman’s breath hitches, his whole body still and slightly trembling. “H-Hank,” he repeats, voice shaking.

“Hm?” Hank hums, drawing little circles in the skin below Connor’s navel. “What is it, my Bonded?”

Connor fights for breath above the water, tilting his head back so it falls on Hank’s shoulders. “Please, Hank- my king-”

The royalty chuckles, the sound low in his throat as he nips again at the junction between Connor’s neck and his shoulder. “What do you want, Connor?” he asks, voice soft as sea moss.

“Touch me,” Connor asks, breathless for absolutely no reason. “Touch me, please.”

“As you wish, my prince.”

When Hank’s rough fingerpads brush teasingly along the Connor’s slit, the prince jerks, spasming with pleasure. It’s been a whole year but he still isn’t used to how sensitive he gets. “Hank!” he complains.

His husband laughs lowly again, and his touch grows a bit firmer as he runs the very tips of his fingers into the slit low at Connor’s front. “Sorry, Con,” he murmurs, “I won’t try to tease you too much.”

Connor harrumphs at that, but he settles easily back against Hank as his body starts to open for him. Hank’s finger’s dip and slide along the smoothness there, fingers beginning to curl as he pushes deeper. And every couple of moments, Hank’s hipst thrust against Connor’s backside as he begins to pursue his own arousal.

Connor’s breathing turns heavy and labored the deeper Hank advances his digits, curling and tickling at the wet and clenching walls. “Hank,” he says, breathless. “I-I want-”

“I know you do,” his husband finishes for him, teasing another gasp from Connor as he drags the pads of his fingers along the spot the sends electricity through every nerve. He kisses Connor’s cheek, and starts to withdraw, leaving Connor empty and shuddering as his walls attempt to close and hold on to nothing.

Hank leads them wordlessly to the sandbar against the very back of the cave, and Connor gets a chance to gaze at the handsome figure of his husband. Broad, scarred back, majestic dorsal fin and tail flashing blue in the dark cave. As they near the shallower parts of the water, Hank turns in place to gaze at him, gaze heavy.

Connor goes immediately into his husband’s embrace, pressing them close together as his arms wrap across Hank’s neck. They’re like two magnets, and Connor can’t help but steal another loving kiss from Hank, pressing their mouths softly together.

The king breathes softly under the attention, his large palm sending sparks up and down Connor’s body. “What do you want tonight, my husband?” he asks.

Connor parts from him enough to look at Hank, blinking curiously. “What do I- you mean-?”

“Do you want to carry our children, or should I?” Hank asks, soft. One hand slips down to Connor’s front underneath the water, brushing along his navel and pressing at the slight softness of Connor’s belly. Hank presses an adoring kiss to the corner of Connor’s mouth. “And know that I am happy with whatever you choose.”

A tremor goes through Connor, and his limbs shake at the implications. He and Hank had talked about it before. Discussed how it worked, and decided that either of them might be willing to hold the responsibility of carrying their children. Connor had full understanding on what it would entail, continuing the royal line between him and his king. And while the idea of Hank’s stomach growing, bulging even more with their young was appealing-

A flush spreads over Connor’s cheeks. He bites the inside of his mouth, then his lip, and looks down at the water between him and his husband. “I- I want to,” he said, voice quiet but convinced.

Hank prompts his love to look up with a tender touch of his hand along his face. “Are you sure, Con?” he asks, reassuring. “You don’t have to do this for me, if that’s what you-”

“I /want/ to, Hank,” Connor says, hardening his voice a bit. He grabs onto his husband’s hand, keeping it at his face. “I want to carry our children.” He presses his own hand to his abdomen, holding down. “I want to have your babies, I want to do it all for you.”

Hank’s expression crumples, overwhelmed with love as he releases a shuddering breath, closing the distance between him and Connor once more. He brings Connor’s lips to his, keeping one hand pressed to Connor’s abdomen, as if he could already feel the life that would soon grow there. “Are you sure, love?” he asks, unable to not worry. “It’s- it’s a lot to ask of you, and when you’ve only been a merman for about a year’s turn-”

“I want this, Hank,” Connor assures, soft, but ensuring that there isn’t a single bit of hesitation in his voice. He stills Hank’s hand at his stomach, holding it there. He leans forward to lock his lips to Hank’s, easily deepening the kiss as he knows how to with his husband’s body. “I trust you’ll be able to guide me through it. And besides,” he says, in-between nips and sucks at his lover’s lips, “As much as I /love/ the idea of filling you up-” Connor tightens a hand at Hank’s shoulder, who gasps, leaning to growl in Hank’s ear, “I want your knot inside of me.”

“God /dammit/, Connor,” Hank growls as Connor does a teasing thrust of his hips to Hank’s, sliding their slits together and sending jolts of pleasure through both. Hank brings Connor back, rewarding him with another open kiss. “You’re /filthy/” he king growls, still pleased nonetheless. He brings another beefy finger down to play with Connor’s opening, teasing it, sliding and dipping his finger in as he works Connor open.

The prince moans from the touch, lets his head fall forward so it collapses on Hank’s shoulder. “Hank-!” he pleads.

Hank hums, heavy, and breathes heavily against Connor. “Oh yeah, baby. Come on. Open up for me, sweetheart.”

Connor’s body readily complies, a cry slipping from his throat, his back bending like a bow as a deft finger slides in to the knuckle. His hands at Hank’s shoulders clench, opening and closing as he grasps onto his husband, mouth parted, sharpened teeth exposed. “Hank!” he cries.

Hank’s breath comes harsh and heavy at Connor’s neck, “Draw me out, Con,” he says, a plea in his voice. “Please, honey-”

Connor nods, and in an effort to appease his king, slips a couple of fingers carefully into his husband’s body.

It’s just how he remembers. Hank’s heat is tight and clenching, closing in hard over Connor’s fingers as he slowly advances in. Warm and as slick as Connor is, coating his fingers. “Come to me, my love,” the prince whispers, feeling along the walls for the tell-tale feel of his husband’s cock against his fingertips.

And there, a slight twitch of interest, and his fingers touch the head of the organ along his lower walls. Hank spasms hard from Connor’s touch, a muffled groan dragging from his lungs as he clenches tight to Connor’s. “God, fuck! Connor!”

The prince grins. “There you are, my king,” he says, keeping his voice perfectly pleasant. He teases at the cock, feels the small slit at the crown, and with more pointed and thought-out touches, is able to tease his husband’s cock forward. It slides carefully along Hank’s walls, then finally peeks out of the bigger merman’s slit.

Broad, thick, and flushed a deep pink. Hank groans, gasps from the pressure. Connor soothes him with kisses to his husband’s cheeks and light teasing touches along the head. It’s a kind of painful-pleasure Connor can relate to. Ever since his transformation the year before, he and Hank had exchanged roles plenty of times. Connor was familiar with the discomfort Hank was experiencing, but he knew the pleasure both of them would feel when they were joined, connected, would be worth it.

“There’s my king,” Connor croons, looking beneath the water as all of Hank’s girth bobs out, free and pulsing, beginning to harden from all the blood flow. His touch is gentle as he caresses the base where he knows Hank’s knot is, and the prince’s breathing grows heavier.

He’s taken Hank’s knot plenty of times in the past year with his husband. Mostly as a merman, but even as a human he indulged in his scientific curiosity as to how the.. sensations would differ from penetration from another human.

In Connor’s professional, scientific opinion, it was far superior.

The pleasure from it amplified, as well, once he obtained his new body as a merman prince. It was more adjusted for receiving a knot, though Hank was prideful enough when they first joined to inform Connor that he was a bit more well-endowed than some of his other merpeople.

“Wouldn’t expect anything less from my king,” Connor remembers saying, already breathless from pleasure.

Hank’s only response at the time was a deep chuckle, and a well-placed thrust.

Now, emboldened and confident on how to give his partner pleasure, Connor wraps his hand around Hank’s considerable girth, trying to even his breath as he lets his mouth fall open. His tongue slips out, a flash of pink from his pale face.

He hears Hank chuckle, pleased. “You want my cock, honey?” Wiggles his own fingers that are still buried in Connor’s body.

The prince whimpers, nods weakly, eyes fixed on his husband’s cock. “Hank, yes-”

The feeling of his husband’s hand comes steady at the back of his neck. “Go on, then,” Hank says, curling his fingers in the wet strands at the base. “Take it.”

A pleasant flush spreads hot over Connor’s cheeks, “Yes, Your Majesty,” and without hesitating, he lowers himself into the water, and Hank’s fingers slide out of his own heat from the movement. The fins at the side immediately open as he takes a compulsive gulp of water, filtering for oxygen, and marvels at how quickly this adjustment is now second-nature to him.

He doesn’t think on it for long, too enraptured by the tempting sight of Hank’s heavy and bulging cock before him, waiting. He nears it carefully, guided by his husband’s hand at his neck as he tentatively licks along the head, keeping it in place with one hand as he teases the slit. He follows the guide of Hank’s hand, responding to little reactions from the king. The tension of his hand, a slight tilt prompting Connor to change his angle, or repeat a movement, and then finally an inpatient tug at Connor’s scalp to stop teasing.

The prince smiles under the water, but progresses as requested to by his king. He envelops the head of the cock into his mouth, eyes going hooded at the familiar taste and weight on his tongue. It all fills his mouth, along with the seawater, but he swallows away, and slowly advances along Hank’s length. The water continues down along his throat, and he moves carefully as he takes Hank in as much as he can. Bobs his head slightly and tongues at the cock, tracing veins and circling at spots he knows sends Hank trembling with pleasure.

Both of Hank’s hands fist into Connor’s hair, but one lovingly reaches forward to cup his face and brush a thumb along his cheek. The touch elicits a groan from Connor, the vibrations from his throat and mouth causing Hank to shudder above and inside of him.

“Ohh, Connor-” he hears Hank groan, the sound slightly warbled from underwater. But Connor recognizes his words pretty easily – he’s used to this reaction. “Yeah, keep on sucking, baby. You’re so good, so good for your king.”

Connor whimpers himself, reaching down with one hand to finger along his own slit, playing with the sensitive walls and at the certain spot where a bundle of nerves send electricity through every part of his body.

The prince lets himself get lost in the feel and the weight of Hank’s cock in his mouth, letting his mouth open further as the hand holding him starts to control the movement of his head. They’re quick and controlled, the tip of Hank’s cock beginning to hit the back of Connor’s throat with every thrust. All the while, Connor swallows, keeping himself oxygenated as he focuses on pleasuring Hank, pleasuring himself, getting lost as he nears that edge-

And then the pressure from Hank’s cock is gone, and his husband has wrenched him away. Connor fights for breath and breeches the water’s surface to stare at Hank, who fights just as hard for air.

“Fuck, I’m so close, Con, fuck,” he pants, still holding onto Connor’s neck. He gazes at the prince, a dazed look in his eye, and Connor preens at how skillfully he can unravel his Bonded.

“Thank you,” he purrs, returning to Hank so he can kiss him. His lips are sensitive and reddened from getting his mouth fucked, but they sing as Hank returns the touches, mouth opening against Connor’s, tasting himself on his husband’s tongue. “It was my pleasure,” the prince says, and sucks playfully at Hank’s bottom lip.

Hank laughs, blinking hard as he pulls Connor back in. They stay embraced like that for a few more tender moments, but then Hank is withdrawing Connor from the kisses so he can stare into his husband’s eyes. “Are you ready for it, sweetheart?” he asks. A slight thrust of his hips slides Hank’s hard cock up along Connor’s abdomen. The prince fights back a groan. “You ready for my knot?”

Connor nods, whimpers at the feel of Hank, closing his hands into fists at Hank’s chest. “Please, Hank. I’m ready.”

The Merman nods, breath a soft sigh, and he leans in one more time to claim Connor’s lips into a deep and passionate kiss. Connor /melts/ beneath Hank’s touch, mouth parting as Hank slips his finger down at Connor’s slit, pressing and teasing. Connor grunts and whines in response, feeling as his walls preemptively clench and shudder, aching for something to enclose around. “Hank- please,” he begs, voice small. “I need you. I can’t wait anymore, please, honey-”

“Shh, sh, shh-” Hank soothes, lips soft against Connor’s where they brush lightly. He pushes further against the prince, gently but firmly easing him back until Connor feels his back touch the soft and grainy sand in the shallows. He thinks of a lover being carefully lowered onto a silk-soft bed, of tender kisses exchanged between legs tangled together in twisted sheets.

Connor’s tail curls up around Hank’s, anchoring his husband’s body over his, and thinks he much rather prefers this.

Hank must catch sight of Connor’s dreamy expression on his face, because he hesitates, careful. “..What?” he asks, eyeing his Bonded cautiously.

“It’s nothing, my love,” Connor hums, and reaches up with one hand to brush it through the long and tangled curls at Hank’s head. “I just-” His smile flickers. “I’m just.. so so happy with you...”

Hank’s face shifts, love and adoration taking over his features, and he sighs out wistfully. “Oh, Connor-”

The distance between the two lovers closes as Hank lowers himself back over Connor, the weight of Hank heavy and grounding on the slighter mermaid.

He feels safe, protected. Wonders if this is his own preferences or if it’s a mermaid instinct coming to surface.

The prince finds he doesn’t care much either way. He enjoys it now, and that’s what matters.

Hank locks his lips to Connor’s one more time, the younger merman eager to comply to the touch. There’s a careful fumbling as Hank reaches, fisting a careful hand at his cock, aiming for Connor’s opening. The spongy head teases softly at first up and down along the slit, and even while Connor is desperate and whining beneath him, Hank still waits, wanting to be certain.

“You still sure, honey?” he asks in the low and sweet voice of his. His body glistens blue from the light of the cave, and his back glows white from the moon shining through the opening above them. His eyes are a brighter blue than the warmest ocean waters or the beautiful open sky.

“Hank,” Connor says, voice amused and aching all at once. “I wouldn’t be begging you for it if I didn’t want it.” To emphasize, he arches his hips up, the movement enough to just barely push the very tip of Hank’s cock into him.

Connor immediately lets out an embarrassed squeak at the sensation, but he fights to stay still so that Hank won’t slide out.

The merman chuckles above him, and settles a hand to the middle of Connor’s back, helping to keep him up. Connor’s fins at his sides and along his back flare up at the touch, and his mouth parts on a cry as his Bonded leans down, chuckling and biting affectionately at the soft spot at Connor’s neck.

“Oh yeah, that’s my good little prince,” Hank rumbles in that deep and sultry voice he saves /just/ for Connor. “Tell me how much you want it.”

Connor whines, not up for playing any games. The aching seems to fill him from nose to fin-tip, causing him to flush and hurt with want. “Hank, please, honey bear /please/-”

Hank laughs in response, the sound low, and replies, “As my prince asks of me, I shall obey.” The tone of his voice sends shivers up and down Connor’s spine.

And finally, /finally/, Hank complies with Connor’s desperate pleas, and begins to push his cock deep into the young prince’s body.

The smaller merman cries out involuntarily, both arms lashing out to his side as he presses his palms into the sand and arches his hips up and forward. “Hn- Hank-!” he moans. His hands shake from the pressure, fingers digging into the soft grains that swirl about his fingertips as his body starts to open for his husband. “Oh, honey- fuck-!”

“Shh, sh sh sh,” Hank soothes, placing a steady hand along Connor’s face. The king makes slight thrusts of his hips, inching his length slowly forward so he can feel every part of Connor’s clenching heat. Each inch of Hank that pushes deeper sends sparks up and down the merprince, his spine bending and only urging the king to dig further into him. “Feels so good, honey,” the king praises, kissing Connor’s temple. “So good for me.”

Connor devolves into whimpers as Hank lowers close over him, a primal part of Connor comforted by the weight of his lover above him. He jolts when he can feel the head of Hank’s cock finally hit the deepest part of him, pressing against that wall barring him entrance.

Above him, Hank shudders, his pleasured sigh brushing Connor’s cheeks as he fully sheathes himself into his husband. “Gods, Connor,” he breathes. “You always take me so good, so deep. Fuck.”

The prince reaches up his hands to latch onto Hank’s shoulders, steadying him while his tail curls tighter around Hank’s. A meager attempt to keep him in place. “Hank-” he says, and thrusts his hips up, as if he could somehow take more of Hank into him. “I love you. Love you so much.”

It’s through hooded eyes that Connor sees Hank place a hand over Connor’s, still resting at one of his broad shoulders. “I love you too, Con.” He leans down, kisses the sensitive spot at Connor’s neck where his gills are, nips at them and touches his lips to the soft skin beneath the prince’s ear. “Are you ready, my little seahorse? Ready for me to move?”

“Yes, please. Hank. Please.”

The chuckle Hank releases is positively /sinful/, but he complies, and starts to slowly pull back. “All right,” he rumbles, and the pull of his cock rubbing back against Connor’s depths cause the prince to cry out in pleasure. “I’ve got it; let me take care of you.”

Connor lets himself relax back against the sand, the pressure against his dorsal fin a little uncomfortable, but he finds a position he can rest it on. He isn’t sure exactly where to let his hands settle. Along Hank’s waist, around his shoulders, down by his hips, maybe?

The merprince doesn’t get a chance to decide, because Hank starts thrusting. He drags his cock along Connor’s walls, the head pressing and teasing at the most sensitive parts of the smaller merman. Connor grips the round part of Hank’s shoulders, the pressure turning the king’s skin white. The larger merman’s movements are slight at first, just slow pushing and pulling as his hips slide his cock in the most intimate part of Connor. But as the prince’s body begins to relax and his opening turns slicker from his arousal, the thrusting grows more powerful. Hank’s large hands keep Connor still with a firm place at his hips, and his mouth parts with the faint hints of a snarl on his lips.

“That’s it, Connor. Fuck! Just like that, baby. You holdin’ me so good, so tight. Can feel how you want it, huh sweetheart? Want my cock, want me to fill you up, give you our babies.”

The prince whines with wanton need, his own walls fluttering and twitching with arousal. He can feel his pleasure climbing, matching Hank’s, and the sultry words his husband growls certainly aren’t helping him slow his ascent. The king’s voice reverberates off the cave walls, giving the illusion that he’s surrounded Connor. In front, behind, at his side. Hank is everywhere around him, and he’s part of Connor, too.

Connor’s arms enclose around Hank’s neck, pulling him as near as possible as his king’s thrusting begins to shallow and speed up. “Ah-ah-! Hank-!”

“That’s right,” Hank growls at Connor’s neck where his gills flutter from their excitement. “Tell me, baby. Tell your king how it feels, how much you want his cock.”

Dizzy, Connor feels dizzy, but his mouth parts as he clings to Hank. The only sound he’s able to make is a weak and strangled whimper. He can feel the head of his own sheathed cock brushing against Hank’s, and it’s like touching an exposed nerve when the heads touch. Both royalty groan, jolting with the pleasure of it. But Hank thrusts faster, his heavy cock keeping Connor’s sheathed deep inside him.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Hank curses under his breath, his form beginning to shake above Connor. “C’mon honey, c’mon. Give it to me, take it- take my cock-”

Connor makes slight attempts to thrust his own hips up, as if to take Hank even deeper. Far inside himself, he feels the opening far inside begin to give, just slightly beneath the relentless pounding from his husband, as well as the tightness against his walls to signify the end is drawing near.

He and Hank have never gone this far- not to the point that Hank actually /pushes/ himself into Connor fully, because that’s what will trigger Connor’s body to start producing eggs, which will then be fertilized when Hank’s knot will seal his semen from leaking out of the prince. 

“You ready for it, hun?” Hank asks, breathless and groaning as his thrusts shallow. Each movement causes Connor’s body to shake and spasm with pleasure. “Ready for my knot?”

It takes Connor a few moments to catch up, but he nods, his arms trembling as he feels the hard barrier in him beginning to stretch open under such a powerful assault. “Yes, Hank. Please- knot me- ah! B- Breed me, fill me uh- up!”

Hank snarls, lips curling back, and he pounds his hips hard into Connor’s, eliciting a cry each time. “You got it, baby. Come on. Take it. Take my cock, Con-” And then one of Hank’s hands is sliding from Connor’s waist and going to where they’re joined. One of his large fingers slips into the very top of the slit, fingering and playing with that little nub that causes Connor to sob with pleasure.

Then Hank leans down, growls right at Connor’s ear, and rhythmically circles his thumb over that tight bundle of nerves.

“Come on my cock, Connor baby.”

The thrust and sound of Hank’s voice is what finally causes Connor to snap. His whole body goes taut as a bowstring, then shakes as his walls spasm and flutter, aching hard as Hank fucks him fast through the prince’s orgasm to chase his own pleasure. Hank knows that the sooner he knots while Connor is at that brink, the less it will hurt his prince.

Connor keeps his hold tight around Hank’s neck, urging him on with rushed but soft and encouraging words as he comes down from his high. His hand rubs little circles at the back of Hank’s neck while he places feather-light kisses at his husband’s gills. They both tremble. “That’s it, Hank. Yes, my king. I want to please you, Your Majesty. Please, husband. Give it to me, I want it, please-”

“Con, I’m- I’m so close, I-FUCK-!”

That’s the moment Hank finally cums, the warmth that spreads deep into Connor’s abdomen while he holds tight onto his king as the swelling of his knot starts. It presses to every part of him, stretching and burning in the most pleasing and painful way. He can’t keep out the small whine that escapes him, mind still hazy with the primal pleasure of holding his lover close as he fucks every bit of his seed into him.

“So good, you did so good for me, Con,” he processes Hank’s words distantly in the back of his mind, feels the light kisses at his cheeks and over his eyelids that flutter. His brows knit together, trembling while Hank fixes a steadying at Connor’s waist. The king tries to sooth Connor’s pain, adding to his pleasure instead by playing with the prince’s clit. His brown eyes roll into the back of his head, and he sinks into the shallow water as Hank praises him lovingly. “Can feel you holding me, honey. I know it’s gonna take.” He caresses Connor’s abdomen, as if he can already feel his stomach beginning to bulge with the life they created together. “You’re gonna look so beautiful, growing with my eggs. Giving me little princes and princesses.”

Hank’s hips do little involuntary thrusts against Connor, the movements slight as he pushes every bit of his spend into his husband’s womb.

Connor lets himself be as distracted as he can while Hank touches and kisses him, making every attempt to soothe him from the feeling of his walls being stretched so impossibly far from the knot tying them together. “Ha-Hank, my king-” he starts.

The merman lovingly thumbs along Connor’s forehead. “What do you need, sweetie?”

His pale hands interlock together at the wrists, keeping Hank from parting even in the slightest. “Hold me, please. Want to feel you~”

Hank chuckles, and it turns into a pleased hum, “Anything for the one carrying my eggs,” he purrs, more than content to wrap his bulky arms around his prince, offering him safety and security in his hold. He kisses Connor’s temple, touches his exposed skin lightly and murmurs sweet words. “You’re so beautiful right now, gonna be even more beautiful when you start to show-”

And finally, the tension begins to pass as Hank’s knot deflates, all of his cock thoroughly milked by Connor’s pulsing walls. The prince lets out an aching, shuddering sigh when Hank’s softened length slides from his body. The king lets out a breath just as long and pleasurable, but they don’t part from each other, instead settling against the moon-bleached sand entwined together.

Hank curls around Connor, keeping his arms locked around his middle while he noses the creamy expanse of the prince’s neck. He keeps the width of his hand pressed over Connor’s slit as it starts to close, and the king’s cock begins to recede back into his own body. He continues to circle bulky fingers teasingly up and down Connor’s slit, paying special attention to the part near the top. “Was it good, baby?” he rumbles against Connor’s back.

“Was perfect, Hank,” Connor sighs, resting his slim hand over Hank’s. “Every time with you is perfect.”

The merman hums, and tugs Connor closer. “Love you, my prince.”

Connor tilts his head back so he can kiss Hank’s cheek over his shoulder. “And I love you, my king.”

–

The two stay interlocked together for the duration of the night and rejoin with their people in the morning. And while Hank stays to attend to some of his duties with his people, instinct and duty compels him to stay and care for his Bonded.

Hank is overly protective, hesitant to stray from Connor’s side for very long before he comes swimming back almost compulsively to be near him. Connor would tease him for it, if his own nervous instincts weren’t just as reactive. If Hank is parted from him and out of his sight farther than he can see, he gets nervous, trilling for his husband near-anxiously through the water and with a slight beat of his tail.

And Hank always comes back, fretful, placing a protective hand at Connor’s belly and tenderly to his face while their fins brush and their tails slide against each other. They croon tenderly at each other while the other merpeople watch in amusement at the clear bond between their royalty.

It’s about a week or so in when Connor first begins to show, confirming that he’s definitely carrying Hank’s young when slight stretch marks start to show over his belly as he starts to grow. 

Hank fusses. Fetches and hunts his food for him, asks other merfolk that aren’t expecting if they can get some food for him so he can protect his expecting mate. Though it feels almost entirely unnecessary. Danger wouldn’t be able to approach Connor with a 10 foot pole, let alone come close enough to harm him when he stays so close to the other merfolk.

They spend their nights together away from the others in their grotto, where they both know they’re safe and secluded from any danger, as well as having their own private area to spend time alone. And all the while, Connor’s belly grows.

Connor only has second-hand experience with mermaid reproduction by what he’s heard from Hank and the other merpeople, but he’s totally subjected to instinct when he wakes up in the middle of the night absolutely unprompted.

But something in him tells him what to do, guides his body to what feels right.

He shuffles himself out of the shallow water, and eases his body up so it’s further along the sand, leaving only his tail in the surf. Burrows himself down so he makes a comfortable-enough indent on the sand where he can lie on his side close to the slow pull of the water’s edge.

His shuffling must have alerted Hank because he hears his husband stir a bit behind him, voice groggy. “Connor?” he asks. He coughs, clears his throat. “What is it-”

Connor answers with his hand over his belly, gentle and massaging. He whimpers.

Hank is there in an instant, pulling himself over to where Connor lounges, and delicately cover’s Connor’s hand with his own. His hand swallows the entirety of Connor’s, and he presses tentatively over his bulging stomach, feeling the slight give of the eggs moving beneath the surface of stretched skin and muscle.

“Is it time, love?” Hank asks softly behind Connor.

The merman nods, breathing hard as – he doesn’t know what – as something settles through his body. Pulls low at his gut, flutters as it goes down his spine. “I-I don’t know- I just know that-that-”

“Sh, sh sh,” Hank soothes, locking his fingers with Connor’s. Presses soft lips to his temple. “I’m here. You just do what you gotta do. I’m with you.”

Connor whimpers, and nods, trying to follow his body’s signals as he shifts in the sand to find the best position. “Need you- need you, Hank.”

“Where, honey?”

Connor doesn’t answer, just guides Hank’s hand from his own down to where his slit is, steadily parting in preparation of what’s to come. Hank hums and presses his mouth to the junction of Connor’s shoulder and neck, “Of course, sweetheart.”

Hank caresses Connor’s opening, not pushing in, but simply touching it. Stimulating the sensitive area as they wait.

It happens suddenly, as swiftly and easily as breathing, but there’s a sudden shifting in Connor, and it travels from his abdomen down to his opening-

And out slips the first egg.

Hank breathes reverently behind him, and tightens his hold around Connor for one moment. “Oh, Con,” he breathes, holding him close, his voice on the edge of tears. “It’s beautiful.”

Connor props himself up on one elbow so he can see, and his breath catches at the sight.

Small, the size of a ping-pong ball, and a pearly, semi-translucent royal blue.

“Oh, Hank,” Connor sighs. His tailfin curls forward, and Hank’s follow, as if to keep their first egg sheltered and safe already before its’ life has even begun. The prince lets his head fall back onto Hank’s shoulder, and he sighs out softly, “It’s so beautiful.”

“Just like you,” Hank hums, and circles his finger again at Connor’s opening. “The greatest gift you ever could have given me,” he murmurs into Connor’s ears.

Connor isn’t able to answer, because as soon as he opens his mouth, another tremor goes through his body, and he gasps, the sound edging close to a cry. A new round of the pearly eggs begin to push out. Connor tries to keep count. Two.. three.. five.. ten.. he gives up when he gets to over 20. He tries to at least watch as each one slips out, studying and admiring the colors of the eggs, trying to dedicate to memory how each one’s colors are slightly different. Wants to appreciate the subtleties between them. Deep and bright blues, swirls of pink and sunset orange, then colors bright and soft like coral in the sunlight. He twines his hand over Hank’s, joining them together in this moment.

All the while, Hank urges Connor’s body along with tender touches and probes of his finger. And as each tremor goes through Connor’s frame, his pleasure increases tenfold as Hank lovingly caresses his slit and the nerves near the top.

“So perfect,” Hank assures lovingly. “Each and every one of them, just like you, my prince.”

Connor whines, and thrusts his hips up while the aching continues deep within him. “Hank-” he begs. “Please, help me- make me come.”

“Anything, Bonded,” Hank swears.

Only a few light and purposeful touches later, and Connor comes undone, his body shaking with a burst of pleasure. His walls flutter, his briny heat and orgasm prompting another round of eggs to slip easier from his body, the pressure somewhat eased by the rhythmic pulsing and added slick of his walls.

“Yes, Hank, yes,” he pants.

The process takes a couple of hours until the last of the eggs finally slip from Connor’s body, and his slit closes once again. An instinct deep inside informs the prince that he’s done, and he relaxes against Hank while he eyes the daunting pile of eggs.

“How many?” he asks, breathless from the ordeal. The prince runs a hand over his belly, which has softened, lowering itself down as the last of the eggs were ejected.

Hank kisses Connor’s temple, a smile on his lips. “200 exactly. Pretty sure that’s gotta be lucky with an even number like that.”

Connor laughs at that, and lets himself admire what he accomplished. How amazing to be here. He never in a million years would have thought a year ago that he would be where he is now. A merman prince laying he and his husband’s eggs, intending to raise their children.

“How many do you think will grow?” he asks, soft, afraid. “What if none of them-?”

“Sh,” Hank orders, and tugs Connor closer. “Don’t worry about that. At least one will take, you can be sure of that. And on the off-chance they don’t, we can always try next year.”

It must just be the hormones or the tenderness of the moment, but tears drip down Connor’s face, his heart feeling so so full from all that’s happened. The promise that Hank will be here next year if they need to try again.

“I love you,” Connor says.

Hank curls himself closer around Connor. His larger tail wraps around his, creating an arch to protect the eggs from slipping away into the ocean. “I love you too,” he rumbles. He places a whiskery kiss to Connor’s cheek, a bit of tears beginning to trail down his own eyes. “And thank you. For everything. I never would have.. never could have imagined I would get another chance, that someone might-”

And suddenly Hank is clutching to Connor, and the prince pushes back, offering what comfort he can as he places a kiss to Hank’s hand and brings it to his mouth.

“I’d give you the world, Hank.”

The king grunts, and buries himself closer to Connor. “Don’t need the world,” he says. He sighs contently, “Just need you.”

They fall asleep shortly after, or at least Connor does, exhausted from the physical work he went through. But Hank stays awake, ever the faithful and watchful guardian as he admires their eggs, a testament to the love between him and Connor.

The king and his prince couldn’t be happier.


	2. Merbabies Extra

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> these were just little blurbs i wrote after a couple of my readers prompted me to write a little bit more, so they're not written in a narrative format, not really. i couldn't resist the thought of adding some merbaby stuff, i just couldn't

Prompted by the question from a reader: How many eggs do you think take between Hank and Connor?:

Mm I'm gonna say that maybe about half of them are fertilized- then half of those actually hatch, and i imagine that when merbabies are born they're kind of like tiny dumbass fish that swim around on their own with just the instinct to swim and eat while their brains develop. Then by the time frontal-cortex type processing starts to occur with human thought, they're about the size/age of young toddlers (over the course of like.. a month?) and are able to instinctively return to their parents, who can recognize their hatchlings from their tails/voices.

Before the merbabies return to their parents though, they're v. vulnerable (the ocean is a dangerous place) and especially being so small and edible to bigger fish and sea creatures. So not a lot are expected to survive.

The adults are always so so happy when they return, and I imagine that this is when the merfolk actually believe parenting starts. This is when they name their children and can begin to teach them further basic survival, language, and all that.

This is hard for Connor to get used to, being a human from before, struggling with the concept that an upward of 50 or so hatchlings (that are his /children/!) that most of them won't make the first few months of life. He wants to try to keep them safe and in the grotto, but Hank explains to him that this is how it works for all merpeople, that the first few months of survival will be vital to establishing the building block to their children's capabilities later. Reassures Connor that they don't have the ability to learn or recognize Connor or Hank as their parents let alone understand to stay near them where it's safe.

Hank is right, but it still hurts. Connor cries over his lost hatchlings he'll never get the chance to know, and Hank holds him, though he doesn't fully understand his husband's sorrow; this is always how it's been for his people.

But the two parents are absolutely overjoyed when five of their hatchlings return to them. Two boys and three girls (2 of the girls and one of the boy being triplets (lol i dont know how, dont question me)), which thrills Connor because it only reminds him of his own brothers, back on the surface. He embraces them all tearfully with Hank curled around all of them. Connor holds each and every one of them. Studies them like they're the most precious things he's ever seen. Measures every stray freckle, twines a finger through every curl of hair, dedicates all of them to memory.

He delights in the triplets, unable to stop comparing the two girls who are identically alike, and the boy who looks like a near mirror image of them if not for the slightly leaner build and copper-amber eyes.

The twin girls have brown hair like Connor, mischievous smiles, and bright blue eyes like Hank's. They cling to Connor, and Hank knows already from the way Connor croons over them that he's going to end up being the sterner parent. It's been about 10 minutes and Connor is already coddling them.

The other boy reminds Connor of Hank, with long curly blonde hair, and sea-blue eyes. There's something steady and playful about his presence, princely and responsible. Connor immediately thinks of him as the oldest.

Then there's the other girl. Small and timid, but quick to smile as she finds comfort in Hank's strong arms. The king melts faster than an ice cube in boiling water as he holds the blonde-haired, brown-eyed girl. She's the first to be named. Faith. Her tail is a bright and warm cerulean blue, just like Hank’s.

All of their tails are different colors, even the triplets ("Thank god," Connor confesses to Hank later. "Or we'd never be able to tell them apart.")

The oldest boy with blonde hair has a tail that flickers between a light pink and shimmering blue that match his eyes. Like an homage to both his parents’ tails. They name him Luke.

The identical twin girls have tails that match- flickering dark emerald green and blue, hints of purple. The one that's more heavily purple they name Emilia. The other with darker, more prominent blue, Samantha (Sam, for short, she(they) later insist). Then there's the other triplet - the boy, with brown hair and brown eyes just like Connor. His tail is a bright and glittering emerald green, matching his triplets’. He fits perfectly in the arms of Prince Connor, and Hank has a name as he looks at all he's been given. Nathan. A gift.

Hank holds little Faith crooked on one arm close to his chest, admiring the color of the matching tail between him and his daughter. He curls a strand of her lovely blonde hair from her face while one of the triplets latch themselves around his neck. “It’s a shame none of them have your tail, Con,” he says, looking over to the prince.

Connor has his own arms full of the other two triplets, Nathan and Sammy. He glances down at his curling tail, soft and pink with it’s flickers of pink and orange. He holds them a little tighter, and Luke goes to wrap his arms around Connor’s neck while his tail drapes over the prince’s shoulder. “I don’t mind,” Connor says tenderly. The two of the triplets he holds in his arms could almost look like his clones, especially Nathan with his matching eyes. The prince kisses both of them on their heads, then their cheeks. His longer tail curls up close to press his children even nearer. “They’re perfect.”

It takes a long time for Connor to stop crying with overwhelming joy as he embraces all of their children, but when he does, Hank leads him and his family back to their grotto to wait out the rest of winter. And when spring returns, they'll go back to the lagoon. The place Hank and Connor met, the place they fell in love and became Bonded. There they'll grow and thrive and be loved.

But for now, Hank just watches as his family curls up on the soft sand. Connor has his arms stretched out as far as he can to hold his babies close to him, his tail wrapped around them in a semi-ring of protection. The surf breaks over his tail, just enough coming over to keep the children’s tails from drying out while they sleep.

Hank smiles, tears in his own eyes, and completes the circle, letting his tail reach over so he can wrap the end of it with Connor. The prince looks at each of their children with absolute adoration, and when he turns his gaze to Hank, there's nothing short of absolute undying love in his eyes.

Hank reaches his hand out to Connor, and his fingertips brush along his husband's cheekbone.

"Five, Hank," Connor says, breath soft and awed and so, so thankful. "/Five/. How are we possibly going to do this?" But there's no negativity in his voice. Only excitement at the prospect of being able to cherish and hold and love so many at once.

"We'll do it together," Hank says. Connor grabs Hank's hand, twining their fingers together. Their rings touch lightly, clinking in the darkness. "Just as we always have."

Connor blinks away his tears, reaches with his other hand to wipe them away. "I love you," he says, voice choked up.

Hank brings Connor's hand to his lip, and kisses his knuckles, twines his tail tighter with his Bonded. "I love you too, husband."

They fall asleep that night, two proud and loving parents wrapped protectively around their family.

\--fin (again)--

When asked if the merfamily ever meet Connor’s human family: 

They meet in the early parts of summer when Connor's family return to visit, shocked and in tears when they see the school of merkids that somehow do and don't look like their Connor.

Silas would get along the most with Sammy and Emmy, mischievous to a fault. He plays with them in the water for hours, sneaking around with them and trying to think of pranks they can play on the others, especially on Niles (it’s successful).

Amanda takes a particular liking to Luke, quiet and respectful like her. They discuss the politics between their two backgrounds, comparing the differences between human and merfolk government. Connor knows he’s going to get an endless barrage of questions about his human background later by his eldest son when it’s bedtime.

Niles finds himself talking to the other triplet Nathan, who shares a quick wit and has endless questions about humankind and what it’s like on land. But like his sisters, he’s not above participating in the playful prank they play on Uncle Niles, who gets splashed with a huge wave of water while distracted by Silas. Nathan apologizes on their behalf later, then makes up for the prank to Niles by connecting over a shared love of music.

And of course ggkkghhhgh Uncle Gavin (who has a golden band on one hand; it matches the one Niles wears on his) is a bit weirded out/uncertain about approaching the merfamily. He still feels misplaced to be surrounded by so much love an acceptance, even when forgiven by the very people he wronged. Connor reassures Gavin by embracing him as he would any of his brothers, and Hank returns it with a firm clasp of their hands in greeting, nothing but warm towards him.

Gavin still hesitates at the water’s edge, watching as the others adjust to getting acquainted with their new family. He thinks he’s going to be left out of the fun and warmth, but kind, curious, and playful Faith takes a liking to him, drawn by his gruff and persona that makes her think of her sometimes-grumpy Papa. The sailor immediately melts. She launches herself at him from the water and demands that he swing her into the waves over and over again, squealing with delight. Gavin doesn't tire of it as he tosses her about like a sack of flower, and he never denies her when she asks to go again. The other kids line up to get thrown by Uncle Gavin, who suddenly finds himself in the role as the ‘fun uncle.’ Niles teasingly accuses him of having favorites of their nieces & nephews later when they’re alone. Gavin shoves & growls at him to shut up, but smiles.


End file.
